a miserable, unglamorous street-level depiction of the dog-eat-dog economy of the boston underworld. respect that yates doesn't play any of this for melodrama despite how easy it would've been to do so, instead committing to a style that's equal parts mundane and melancholy because these are characters who (despite the friendly faces and desperate negotiations) feel it in their bones that there's no future. nothing to do but just resign yourself to waiting around in shitty bars and anonymous parking lots until it's your turn to be traded in for a few bucks and a favor. mitchum gives one of the saddest, weariest performances i've seen played at a register this casual (teared up watching him cheer on bobby orr) in between some of the most tense and quiet logistical bank robbery sequences ever put on film.